


Running out of Time

by Gremkt



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M, sitting in trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gremkt/pseuds/Gremkt
Summary: Ellas is stressed about the upcoming visit to Denerim.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Mahariel, Zevran Arainai/Male Mahariel, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Running out of Time

“So. Denerim. Looks like it’s about seven days away,” Alistair said, the rough map stretched out in front of the group of them. “Maybe six if we push it but then we might be in a less than favorable situation on arrival. You know what they say, never face your enemies without a good night’s sleep.” A faint frown furrowed his brow. “Do they say that? Or is it just common sense?”

Ellas just thanked him, ordering the party to make camp for the night. Their journey could wait till tomorrow to start. 

Once the camp was established, he excused himself, finding a perch up in a suitable tree to deal with the thoughts running back and forth through his head. 

Seven days. Seven days until they were in the human city, attempting to petition the human for help, trying to install Alistair in the throne. Seven days until he found himself in a city full of people who knew nothing about him, who didn’t respect him, who thought they knew better than he and his people.

Seven days until they found out what allies they had in this fight, a fight that was hurtling towards them. The archdemon was coming, the dreams left no doubt about that, but they still had no real idea when. 

Frustrated, Ellas snapped a stick from a nearby branch, hurling it into the forest around him. 

“Would you perhaps enjoy some company?”

He jumped, too lost in his own thoughts to have heard Zevran approaching. That was careless of him, especially in the woods where danger was common enough in normal times, let alone with a Blight looming. He had let his guard down in recent times, beginning to rely too much on the senses enhanced by the Joining and he made a mental note to work on that. 

He shrugged a noncommittal gesture in reply, not really knowing if he wanted to be alone or not at the present moment. Zevran clearly interpreted it as agreement, clambering gracefully into the tree to sit beside him. 

They sat like that for moment, in comfortable silence, Ellas still trying to wrestle all the thoughts into submission. That was one of the things he loved about Zevran - he didn’t feel the need to fill these silent moments unless there was something to say. 

“There is something on your mind,” Zevran said finally. There was a question in his words, implied and not spoken but there nonetheless.

“I don’t want to go to Denerim,” Ellas admitted. It had been their goal for a while now, always working towards but he had never admitted that out loud despite it being an ongoing thought. “I don’t want to go to their Shem city and deal with their Shem politics.” 

He waited for Zevran to reply, to tell him he was being silly, that it was important, that it would all work out, waiting for a reply that didn’t come. Beside him, Zevran just sat, silently, looking at him with keen eyes and a tilted head. Ellas took that as an invitation to continue, wrapping his hand around another stick on the branch. 

“I feel like we’re running out of time. We’ve trekked the length of Thedas and back again, begging for help, and now we’re wasting our time to go to beg again and hope they don’t kill us in the process, hope it doesn’t take too  _ long _ , hope they can pull their own heads out of their asses and get one with each other long enough to help fight this thing.”

Still there was no answer from Zevran. 

“Do they want the archdemon to come? Do they not care? Why is it more important that we have an ass with the right blood sitting on a fancy chair with a stupid Shem hat on? Is this what they all died for? Their cursed politics and manipulation and power plays?”

Under his fingers, the stick snapped as he tightened them in anger he hadn’t realised was there. 

“Were it not for those, ah... manipulations and power plays, I would not be here,” Zevran pointed out, finally breaking his silence. 

“Even halla shit is useful for helping plants grow,” Ellas muttered grumpily. “Doesn’t stop it smelling like shit though.”

“You tend to the halla, yes?” 

He nodded silently. 

“You care for them, help meet their needs and they give you the things that you need,” Zevran continued. “The nobles at the Landsmeet are not so different. They will benefit your cause, even if it is not all what you hope for.” 

Ellas grunted. 

“Are you saying I have to go deal with their shit?”

Zevran laughed, the lighthearted sound easing some of the tightness in Ellas’s chest.

“Well, when you put it like that…” he said, voice trailing off into nothingness. 

“Am I being silly worrying?” Ellas chewed his lip. The other elf’s honesty was something else he appreciated about Zevran. If he was being silly, he could trust Zev to tell him but at least he would do it in a kindhearted way while not obscuring the truth. 

“In these circumstances? Only a fool would not find a little worry.”

“Thank you Zev.”

They returned to their comfortable silence once again, Ellas enjoying the feeling of the breeze against this back, catching flyaway pieces of hair as Zevran shifted closer towards him, their arms pressed together in comfortable companionship. 

“If we are running out of time, however,” Zevran said after a moment, “I can think of more enjoyable ways to spend time than sitting and worrying about things we cannot change.” 

“What would those be?” 

The words were barely out before Zev’s lips were on his. It was a welcome distraction, driving the unwelcome doubts and anger out of his head as thoughts of Zevran and Zevran alone took over. 

“I’ll let you use your imagination,” he murmured, pressing closer. “But if I might be so bold, these ideas would be much more enjoyable not seated in a tree.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started with a generic Mahariel for a m!warden/Zevran prompt but I fell in love with him and now Ellas is my go-to warden when I need something that doesn’t fit the multiwarden world state 
> 
> Im gonna be honest though the only reason I’m posting this is because it’s 1000 words and my word count stats for 2020 are currently 68969 words and I wanna get it to 69969 so...


End file.
